


Stay

by QueenOfTheWesternSky



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beta Universe, Gen, Meet the Family, Stri-Lalonde Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheWesternSky/pseuds/QueenOfTheWesternSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bro asks to meet Rose, Mom doesn't know what to do and Rose grows far too attached.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

Roxy Lalonde wasn’t really sure what to make of such a request. She wouldn’t say no of course, she didn’t think she really had the right. And in any case, she’d never say no to someone she cherished so much. It could be good for Rose anyway. And with that she made the final arrangements, paid for a flight to get him there, and a sitter for the sweet child he was leaving behind.

Really, she never thought she’d see the day that Dirk would call and ask to meet Rose. She supposed she should have expected it a little, or maybe even craved to see Dave in return. But somehow, she knew Dirk would take care of him. At least do a better job than she ever did with Rose. 

“Rose, an old friend of mine is coming to visit, alright? Just for a few days. You’re going to love him!” She told her daughter with a grin as they drove to the airport to collect him. She just nods quietly. Rose has never been a loud child, never very excitable. Intelligent thought. Roxy was never sure if that came from her or from Dirk. Regardless, she’d successfully managed to raise the smartest and most sarcastic six year old in the world. If that wasn’t something to be proud of, she didn’t know what was.

 

Rose Lalonde was approximately six years and two months old. She’d known how things like time operated for a long while now. She knew how most things operated. She just generally knew most things. Gifted was a term that was thrown around often with her. What she didn’t know was why her mother was so excited about this friend of hers coming to visit. She wasn’t even aware her mother had any friends. As a rule, Lalondes were not particularly social.

Mr Strider, that’s what she’d said to call him. But what was really baffling her was the fact that her mother had clearly stated that he was coming to see Rose, not her mother with whom he was apparently old friends, but a child whom he’d never met. She couldn’t understand it at all. But when she was standing there beside her mother in the airport, she was almost a little excited. They’d never had a visitor before. He must be someone special, for Roxy Lalonde to be willing to allow him to stay in their lavish home.

He was sort of strange, that was what she thought at first glance. He seemed to light up when he saw them. The tiniest, but most emotion filled smile she’d ever seen on his face. He addressed her mother first, he hugged her and pressed a soft kiss to each one of her cheeks, called her Rox and talked to her like she was precious and breakable, which Rose knew she was.

Then he knelt down to meet her at eye level. There was a cap atop his head and a pair of rather ridiculous glasses on his face. But there was a kind smile, which she imagined went all the way to his eyes. Rose smiled back politely and gave a tiny curtsy. “Hello, Mr Strider.”

“Hello, Rose. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, a clear Texan accent coming through.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

 

The pleasantries didn’t last long. About the time he offered to teach her to sew, she decided she liked this Mr Strider. Especially when he started making toys for her.  
“Just like this. It’s easy, do you want to try?” She got pulled up onto his knee and handed the bluntest of all the needles, as well as a few bits of felt to try and sew together. She learned quickly enough, within an hour she’d stopped poking herself in the fingers (Each time she did, he’d press her fingertips to his lips to kiss it better) and now he was teaching her how to make a cat toy.

By the end of the day, between them they’d made about twenty (Hers weren’t quite as professional looking as his, but he said they were wonderful all the same). A couple of which went to her mother, or Rox as he so affectionately called her. A few took up residence on Rose’s bed. And one, the very first one she had successfully made, was given to Mr Strider as a thank you for teaching her.

 

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” He asked for the eighth time.

“Yes I’m sure! The house is this way!” Rose chirped, shifting around a little in her perch on his back, pointing confidently in the direction she was sure the house was in.

“We’ve been walking that way for almost an hour! Are you sure you don’t want to call your mom?” He looked over his shoulder at her, to which she shook her head vehemently. 

“No! I’m sure this is the right way! Wha—“ She leant so far forward with her pointing, that she toppled right off his shoulders. But he was fast, she’d learnt that a while ago, that he was so very fast. Faster than anyone should be and he caught her before she’d even really had a chance to fall.

“You alright?”

“Ye—“ Once again she found herself interrupted. This time by his phone.

“Where the fuck are you two?!?!”

 

Before Rose knew it, he was leaving. He was packing up his things (Including the cat toy she’d given him) and he was going back to Texas. He’d told her that he had a brother there, a boy about her age named Dave. She found herself feeling anger towards that boy, someone she’d never met. Because he was going back to him, and leaving her again.  
“Mr Strider, please stay!” She cried up at him, tears welling up in her lavender eyes.

“Aww, little flower, I would love to. But I just can’t. Need to fly back to ye ol’ Texas.” He said with that same smile he always gave her. It was a little like the one he gave her mother. Like she was precious and wonderful and a thousand other nice things. As if he loved her in that unconditional way that her mother did.

She refused to cry. Not yet. She’d be strong, a strong little flower just for now.

 

They were standing in the airport again, and Rose finally understood the phrase bittersweet. Over and over he kept telling her he didn’t want to leave her, either of them, but he had to. He was holding onto her as she finally let herself cry. She didn’t cry often, even as a baby, her mother could testify to that. But there was never an occasion in which crying seemed more appropriate than this one.

“I don’t want to go, little flower.” He told her again, smoothing back her hair.

“Then why don’t you just marry mom? So you can stay here forever! She’s always saying how lonely she is.” She didn’t understand back then, she was so young. In future years, Rose would look back on her words then and feel guilt and silliness. How rude of her, to ask him to marry her mother. And how awful of her to tell him of how lonely her mother was.

“Uhh…”

“Okay now, Rose. Mr Strider has to go, say goodbye now.”

There were a lot more tears and a few more heartfelt pleas and plans, anything to make him stay. Everything had been so much better. Her mother had been happier, she’d been happier. Everything had been perfect for a few short days.

 

Rose never saw Mr Strider again, or even learned his first name. Though whenever she’d mention him in front of her mother, a fond smile would appear on her face, like she was remembering happier days. So she made sure to leave some of those silly cat toys they’d made together lying around in her mother’s study, or in the liquor cabinet.

Many years from then, from her only meeting with the man she only knew as Mr Strider, she would befriend a young boy named Dave Strider, and she’d smile faintly, bitterly, because as he rambled on about the man who was his guardian, who he so affectionately called ‘Bro’, she took comfort in the fact that he was still alright. 

Even more time passed when she learned the truth. And for the first time in a long time, Rose Lalonde felt like an idiot child. But at least she knew. She knew that he didn’t have to give a damn about her, that because of the ridiculous circumstances behind her existence, it would have been much easier for him to not take any notice of her. Pretend he had nothing to do with her.

That night, she pulled a certain cat toy out of her sylladex and once again, she allowed herself, just for a few moments, to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look it's a crummy story I wrote for my moirail.


End file.
